" Where have you been?" demanded John , who had been initially startled to find the flat empty when he got back from the shops. It would not have worried him so much if Sherlock's coat and scarf hadn't been lying there, draped over the side of the sofa. Also he was certain Sherlock was minding an experiment. It wasn't usual for him to leave during one of those.
" Mrs Hudson's" answered Sherlock, looking extremely pleased with himself and making his way back through to the kitchen/lab.
" Why?" asked John , watching Sherlock warily as he rolled up his sleeves, glanced at a Petri dish and wrote something down absentmindedly in his untidy, almost illegible scrawl.
" There was a bee in her room."
John looked puzzled.
" You actually left your experiment to get rid of it for her?" John did not buy this for one minute. "How come? You didn't even help me that time I found a snake in the bath"
" That was evidence" said Sherlock carelessly, " I knew he'd turn up eventually, so I thought it best not to worry you-"
" There was a snake, loose in the flat and you thought it was better NOT to tell me"
" Yes" John let that one go, for the simple reason that the conversation would not go anywhere otherwise.
" So go on, what was in it for you? Why the sudden chivalry?"
" Mrs Hudson was scared of it"
" Right"
" I saved it"
Sherlock was grinning madly to himself as he poked the Petri dish's contents with his middle finger. John was sure this was highly unsanitary, but found himself once again, letting the thought go.
" You're happy because you saved a bee from the wrath of Mrs Hudson?"
" Yes" he drawled , as he hunted for a pipette. John laughed at him.
" You're not usually this happy after you've saved a human from death"
"True " he agreed, again absently.
" Oh come on, you don't actually like bees do you?"
Sherlock nodded his head.
" Seriously?"
The detective began to narrow his eyes now, sensing John's taunts.
" Bees? You and bees? No way. Never"
"Apiology has always fascinated me"
Oh, so now it was time for the big words was it? John frowned at his friend.
" Apiology?"
" The study of bees."
Sherlock lifted the Petri dish to his nose and sniffed it, grimacing at the smell before writing down his findings, all the while glowering at the dish.
" Well you've never once expressed an interest in them in front of me"
" Perhaps I don't feel the need to bombard the world with pointless pieces of trivia about my personal life"
This was clearly a dig at John's blog.
" Why?"
"What does it matter why?"
Sherlock threw out his hands in frustration. John couldn't be sure if it was because of his questioning, or because the experiment had not given him the results he'd wanted.
" Do you dissect them?"
" Nope"
" So you think they're pretty?" John grinned a little even as he said it. This made Sherlock even more indignant.
" They look... interesting"
"Go on then. If this is a lifelong passion, fire away. Let's have it"
Sherlock spun on the spot and stared at John as though he were completely mad.
" I'm sorry?"
" I still reckon you're pulling my leg. Facts. About bees"
Sherlock rolled his eyes and yet obliged. As annoying as this was, it did give him a chance to impress John with his superior intellect ( one of his favourite pastimes), and prove himself right ( another of his favourites).
"There are more than 20,000 species of wild bees, yet merely 600 of them are social in habit"
" Go on"
" They are usually quite calm , unless you disturb them. In which case they may well sting."
Sherlock added a hint of annoyance to the last part.
" I see where this is going" sighed John.
" Of course, the temper of bees is affected by the weather, their ability to work. If it is windy or cloudy, the bees are unable to collect nectar and pollen and are therefore aggressive and temperamental. "
" Sound difficult to live with" commented John wryly.
"Ah, but you can calm them with smoke." revealed Sherlock as though he had just departed a great secret.
" Or they could try nicotine patches?"
" Once you understand them , you come to realize they are not creatures to be feared, but creatures to be admired"
" So they are basically you, as an animal?"
" Don't be absurd John" dismissed Sherlock, who was reddening despite himself.
" And you've liked them all your life?"
Sherlock looked at John , standing there in his leather jacket and checked shirt, arms crossed, a bemused expression on his face, head tilted slightly to the left, surrounded by shopping bags. It was not often he spoke of his childhood. In fact , he made a point not to, but this was John, so it didn't really matter did it?
" They used to fly into our conservatory by accident and get trapped. Mycroft used to run about with the wasp killer and attempt to dispose of them, so I used to catch them in jam jars and rescue them"
" You freed them?" John raised his eyebrows skeptically at the image of a teenage Sherlock rushing about the room like some sort of hippie, saving the poor defenceless animals.
" Well, not straightaway" he admitted, " I took them up to my room first, took some photographs. Made observations."
" Is that why Mycroft is your arch enemy? The persecution of harmless bees?"
Sherlock grimaced.
" No John. No"
Thank goodness John seemed to have now decided to take him seriously. He felt a little bit better about telling him that story.
" We could get some?" volunteered John, " Keep them in a tank or something?"
" No John, the flat is no place for them. I shall have some at the end of my crime solving days"
" You are going to stop?"
John was extremely surprised. He almost laughed at the absurdity of Sherlock ever retiring, before realising that, of course, one day, Sherlock would grow old, perhaps not as fantastic as he used to be. The thought saddened him. He wanted Sherlock to be like this forever, manic and quick on his feet, and young. Sherlock suited young. His soul was young.
"When my work is done I intend to devote myself to apiculture." He then translated for a confused looking John, "When I am no longer needed here I shall keep bees"
" Whoa" grinned John, who was strangely touched by Sherlock's devotion to the insect. "I'd best start brushing up on my knowledge then. I don't really want to get repetitively stung every day of my life"
Sherlock paused and looked at him. He raised his chin and surveyed the man, checking to see signs that he was being mocked. And no. He wasn't. He hadn't even told Mycroft of this intention yet, for fear of ridicule. Yet here was John, apparently embracing the idea and becoming a part of it. Instantly the image in Sherlock's mind changed. Instead of one man in a white protective suit beside a hive, there were two. One tall and one small. The taller braved the buzzing creatures while the other stood beside , watching on with interest. He grinned at John.
" Do you like bees?" he inquired excitedly.
John merely laughed.
" I can't say I'm nuts about them, but I could like them, yes. I never thought about it before"
" Good" said Sherlock happily, all thoughts of his failed experiment gone, " And I thought retiring would be dull..."